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QUESTENBERG.

OCTAVIO.

OCTAVIO.

I know a spell that will soon dispossess

Their little army faithful to its duty, The evil spirit in him.

And daily it becomes more numerous.
QUESTENBERG (walking upand down in evident disquiet.) I hold him all encompass'd by my listeners.

Nor can he take us by surprise : you know
Friend, friend!

Whate'er he does, is mine, even while 't is doing0! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffer'd

No step so small, but instantly I hear it;
Ourselves to dream of at Vienna. There

Yea, his own mouth discloses it.
We saw it only with a courtier's eyes,
Eyes dazzled by the splendor of the throne.
We had not seen the War-chief, the Commander,

"Tis quite The man all-powerful in his camp Here, here,

Incomprehensible, that he detects not *T is quite another thing.

The foe so near!
Here is no Emperor more--the Duke is Emperor.
Alas, my friend! ålas, my noble friend!

Beware, you do not think,
This walk which you have ta'en me through the camp That I, by lying arts, and complaisant
Strikes my hopes prostrate.

Hypocrisy, have skulked into his graces :

Or with the substance of smooth professions
OCTAVIO.
Now you see yourself

Nourish his all-confiding friendship! No-
Of what a perilous kind the office is,

Compellid alike by prudence, and that duty Which you deliver to me from the Court.

Which we all owe our country, and our sovereign, The least suspicion of the General

To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet Costs me my freedom and my life, and would

Ne'er have I duped him with base counterfeits ! But hasten his most desperate enterprise.

QUESTENBERG.

It is the visible ordinance of Heaven.
QUESTENBERG.
Where was our reason sleeping when we trusted
This madman with the sword, and placed such power I know not what it is that so attracts
In such a hand ? I tell you, he 'll refuse,

And links him both to me and to my son.
Flatly refuse, to obey the Imperial orders, Comrades and friends we always were long habių
Friend, he can do't, and what he can, he will. Adventurous deeds perform'd in company,
And then the impunity of his defiance-

And all those many and various incidents
Oh! what a proclamation of our weakness ! Which store a soldier's memory with affections,

Had bound us long and early to each other-
OCTAVIO.
Dose think too, he has brought his wife and daughter Yet I can name the day, when all at once
Witout a parpose hither? Here in camp!

His heart rose on me, and his confidence
And at the very point of time, in which

Shot out in sudden growth. It was the morning We're arming for the war? That he has taken

Before the memorable fight at Lutzner. These, the last pledges of his loyalty,

Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out, Away from out the Emperor's domains

To press him to accept another charger. This is no doubtful token of the nearness

At distance from the tents, beneath a tree, Of sone eruption!

I found him in a sleep. When I had waked him

And had related all my bodings to him,
QUESTENBERG.

Long time he stared upon me, like a man
How shall we hold footing Astounded ; thereon fell upon my neck,
Beneath this tempest, which collects itself And manifested to me an emotion
And threats us from all quarters? The enemy That far outstripp'd the worth of that small service.
Of the empire on our borders, now already Since then his confidence has follow'd me
The master of the Danube, and still farther, With the same pace that mine has fled from him.
And farther still, extending every hour!

QUESTENBERG.
In our interior, the alarum-bells
Of insurrection-peasantry in arms

You lead your son into the secret?
All orders discontented—and the army,
Just in the moment of our expectation

No!
Of aidance from it-lo! this very army
Seduced, run wild, lost to all discipline,

What! and not warn him either what bad hands Loosen'd, and rent asunder from the state

His lot has placed him in?
And from their sovereign, the blind instrument
Of the most daring of mankind, a weapon
Of fearful power, which at his will he wields!

I must perforce

Leave him in wardship to his innocence.
OCTAVIO.

His young and open soul-dissimulation
Nay, nay, friend! let us not despair too soon.

Is foreign to its habits ! Ignorance Men's words are ever bolder than their deeds :

Alone can keep alive the cheerful air, And many a resolute, who now appears

The unembarrass'd sense and light free spirit, Made up to all extremes, will, on a sudden

That make the Duke secure.
Find in his breast a heart he wot not of,
Let but a single honest man speak out

QUESTENBERG (anxiously).
The true name of his crime! Remember too, My honor'd friend! most highly do I deem
We stand not yet so wholly unprotected.

of Colonel Piccolomini-yet-ifCounts Altringer and Galas have maintain'd Reflect a little

OCTAVIO.

QUESTENBERG.

OCTAVIO.

MAX

OCTAVIO.

OCTAVIO.

OCTAVIO.

OCTAVIO (to QUESTENBERG).
I must venture it.

Hush! Suppress it, friend! Hush !There he comes !

Unless some end were answer'd by the utterance
Of him there you 'll make nothing.

MAX. (continuing).
SCENE IV.

In their distress Max. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, They call a spirit up, and when he comes, QUESTENBERG.

Straight their flesh creeps and quivers, and they

dread him Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father!

More than the ills for which they call'd him up. (He embraces his father. As he turns round, he The uncommon, the sublime, must seem and be observes QUESTENBERG, and draws back with Ay, there ihe Present Being makes itself felt

.

Like things of every day.—But in the field, a cold and reserved air.

The personal must command, the actual eye You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you.

Examine. If to be the chieftain asks

All that is great in nature, let it be How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor.

Likewise his privilege to move and act Attention, Max., an old friend merits-Reverence In all the correspondencies of greatness. Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign. The oracle within him, that which lives, MAX. (drily).

He must invoke and questionnot dead books,
Von Questenberg !-Welcome-if you bring with you Not ordinances, not mould-rotted papers.
Aught good to our head-quarters.
QUESTENBERG (seizing his hand).

My son! of those old narrow ordinances
Nay, draw not

Let us not hold too lightly. They are weights Your hand away, Count Piccolomini !

Of priceless value, which oppress'd mankind Not on mine own account alone I seized it,

Tied to the volatile will of their oppressors. And nothing common will I say therewith.

For always formidable was the league [Taking the hands of both. And partnership of free power with free will. Octavio-Max. Piccolomini!

The way of ancient ordinance, though it winds, O savior names, and full of happy omen!

Is yet no devious way. Straight forward goes Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria, The lightning's path, and straight the fearful path While two such stars, with blessed influences

of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies and rapid, Beaming protection, shine above her hosts.

Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it MAX.

reaches. Heh!Noble minister! You miss your part. My son! the road, the human being travels, You came not here to act a panegyric.

That, on which BLESSING comes and goes, doth follow You 're gent, I know, to find fault and to scold us The river's course, the valley's playful windings, I must not be beforehand with my comrades. Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines, OCTAVIO (to Max.).

Honoring the holy bounds of property! He comes from court, where people are not quite

And thus secure, though late, leads to its end. So well contented with the Duke, as here.

QUESTENBERG. What now have they contrived to find out in him?

O hear your father, noble youth! hear him, That he alone deterinines for himself

Who is at once the hero and the man.
What he himself alone doth understand!

OCTAVIO.
Well, therein he does right, and will persist in 't.
Heaven never meant him for that passive thing

My son, the nursling of the camp spoke in thee!

A war of fifteen years
That can be struck and hamıner'd out to suit

Hath been thy education and thy school.
Another's taste and fancy. Re 'll not dance
To every tune of every minister:

Peace hast thou never witness'd! There exists

A higher than the warrior's excellence.
It goes against his nature-he can't do it.

In war itself war is no ultimate purpose.
He is possess'd by a commanding spirit,
And his too is the station of command.

The vast and sudden deeds of violence,

Adventures wild, and wonders of the moment, And well for us it is so! There exist Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use

These are not they, my son, that generate Their intellects intelligently. Then

The Calm, the Blissful, and the enduring Mighty! Well for the whole, if there be found a man,

Lo there! the soldier, rapid architect ! Who makes himself what nature destined him,

Builds his light town of canvas, and at once The pause, the central point to thousand thousands

The whole scene moves and bustles momently, Stands fix'd and stately, like a firin-built column,

With arms, and neighing steeds, and mirth and quarrel. Where all may press with joy and confidence.

The motley market fills; the roads, the streams Now such a man is Wallenstein; and if

Are crowded with new freights, trade stirs and hurries! Another better snits the court-no other

But on some morrow morn, all suddenly, But such a one as he can serve the army

The tents drop down, the horde renews its march

Dreary, and solitary as a church-yard
QUESTENBERG

The meadow and down-trodden seed-plot lie
The army? Doubtless!

And the year's harvest is gone utterly

MAX

MAX.

MAX.

The joyous vespers of a bloody day. O let the Emperor make peace, my father! O happy man, O fortunate! for whom Most gladly would I give the blood-stain'd laurel The well-known door, the faithful arms are open, For the first violet * of the leafless spring,

The faithful tender arms with mute embracing. Pluck'd in those quiet fields where I have journey'd !

QUESTENBERG (apparently much affected). OCTAVIO.

0! that you should speak What ails thee? What so moves thee all at once?

Of such a distant, distant time, and not
Of the to-

morrow, not of this to-day. Peace have I ne'er beheld ? I have beheld it.

MAX (turning round to him, quick and vehement). From thence am I come hither : 0! that sight,

Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna ! It glimmers still before me, like some landscape

I will deal openly with you, Questenberg. Left in the distance,—some delicious landscape!

Just now, as first I saw you standing here, My road conducted me through countries where

(I'll own it to you freely) indignation The war has not yet reach'd. Life, life, my father Crowded and press'd my inmost soul together. My venerable father, Life has charms

"Tis ye that hinder peace, ye!-and the warrior, Which we have ne'er experienced. We have been It is the warrior that must force it from you. But voyaging along its barren coasts,

Ye fret the General's life out, blacken him, Like some poor ever-roaming horde of pirates,

Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows That, crowded in the rank and narrow ship,

What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons, House on the wild sea with wild usages,

And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy; Nor know aught of the main land, but the bays

Which yet is the only way to peace : for if Where safeliest they may venture a thieves' landing. War intermit not during war, how then Whale'er in the inland dales the land conceals

And whence can peace come ?—Your own plagues Of fair and exquisite, O! nothing, nothing,

fall on you! Do we behold of that in our rude voyage.

Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you.

And here make I this vow, here pledge mysell; OCTAVIO (attentive, with an appearance of My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein, uneasiness).

And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye And -80 your journey has reveal'd this to you? Shall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin.

(Exit.

MAX.

OCTAVIO..

MAX

QUESTENBERG.

"I was the first leisure of my life. O tell me, What is the meed and purpose of the toil,

SCENE V. The painful toil, which robb'd me of my youth,

QUESTENBERG, Octavio PiccolOMINI.
Left me a heart unsoul'd and solitary,

QCESTENBERG.
A spirit uninform’d, unornamented,
For the camp's stir and crowd and ceaseless larum, Alas, alas ! and stands it so ?
The neighing war-horse, the air-shattering trumpet,

[Then in pressing and impatient lones. The unvaried, still returning hour of duty,

What, friend! and do we let him go away Word of command, and exercise of arms

In this delusion—let him go away? There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this

Not call him back immediately, not open To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart!

His eyes upon the spot? Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not OCTAVIO (recovering himself out of a deep study). This cannot be the sole felicity,

Ile has now open 'd mine, These cannot be man's best and only pleasures ! And I see more than pleases me.

QUESTENBERG.

What is it? Much hast thou learnt, my son, in this short journey.

OCTAVIO.

Curse on this journey! 0! day thrice lovely! when at length the soldier Returns home into life; when he becomes

But why so? What is it? A fellow-man among his fellow-men.

OCTAVIO. The colors are unfurl'd, the cavalcade

Come, come along, friend! I must follow up Marshals, and now the buzz is hush'd, and hark!

The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes Now the soft peace-marcha beats, home, brothers, home! Are open'd now, and I must use them. Come ! The caps and helmets are all garlanded

[Draws QUESTENBERG on with him. With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.

QUESTENBERG.
The city gates fly open of themselves,

What now? Where go you then?
They need no longer the petard to tear them.
The ramparts are all fill'd with men and women,

OCTAVIO.
With peaceful men and women, that send onwards

To her herself. Kicies and welcomings upon the air, Which they make breezy with atfectionate gestures.

ТоFrom all the lowers rings out the merry peal, OCTAVIO (interrupting him, and correcting himself).

To the Duke. Come, let us go—"Tis done, 't is done, * In the original,

I see the net that is thrown over him.

Oh! he returns not to me as he went.
Den blut'gen Lorbeer geb ich hin mit Freuden
Furs erste Veilchen, das der März uns bringt,

QUESTENBERG.
Das durftige Pfand der neuverjüngten Erde.

Nay, but explain yourself.

QUESTENBERG.

THIRD SERVANT.

WALLENSTEIN.

FIRST SERVANT.

OCTAVIO.

The five is the first number that's made up
And that I should not Of even and odd.
Foresee it, not prevent this journey! Wherefore

SECOND SERVANT.
Did I keep it from him ?—You were in the right. The foolish old coxcomb!
I should have warn'd him! Now it is too late.

FIRST SERYANT.
QUESTENBERG.

Ey! let him alone though. I like to hear him; But what's too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,

there is more in his words than can be seen at first That you are talking absolute riddles to me. sight.

OCTAVIO (more collected).
Come! to the Duke's. "Tis close upon the hour,

Off, they come.

SECOND SERVANT. Which he appointed you for audience. Come!

There! at the side-door. A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey! (He leads QUESTENBERG off.

[They hurry off. SENI follows slowly. A Page

brings the staff of command on a red cushion,
and places ů on the table near the Duke's chair.
They are announced from without, and the

wings of the door fly open.
SCENE VI.
Changes to a spacious Chamber in the House of the
Duke of Friedland.-Servants employed in putting

SCENE VII.
the tables and chairs in order. During this enters
SENI, like an old Italian doctor, in black and clothed

WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS. somewhat fantastically. He carrier a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heaven. You went then through Vienna, were presented

To the Queen of Hungary? Come to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear

DUCHESS. the sentry call out, “Stand to your arms !" They will

Yes; and to the Empress too, be there in a minute.

And by both Majesties were we admitted
SECOND SERVANT.

To kiss the hand.
Why were we not told before that the audience

WALLENSTEIN. would be held here? Nothing prepared—no orders

And how was it received, -no instructions

That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
THIRD SERVANT.

To the camp, in winter-time?
Ay, and why was the balcony-chamber counter-

DUCHESS. manded, that with the great worked carpet ?—there

I did even that one can look about one.

Which you commission'd me to do. I told them, FIRST SERVANT.

You had determined on our daughter's marriage,
Nay, that you must ask the mathematician there. And wish'd, ere yet you went into the field,
He says it is an unlucky chamber.

To show the elected husband his betrothed.
SECOND SERVANT.

WALLENSTEIN.
Poh! stuff and nonsense! That's what I call a hum. And did they guess the choice which I had made ?
A chamber is a chamber; what much can the place

DUCHESS. signify in the affair ?

They only hoped and wish'd it may have fallen SENI (with gravity).

Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble. My son, there's nothing insignificant,

WALLENSTEIN. Nothing ! But yet in every earthly thing

And you—what do you wish, Elizabeth ?
First and most principal is place and time.

DUCHESS.
FIRST SERVANT (to the second).

Your will, you know, was always mine.
Say nothing to him, Nat. The Duke himself must
let him have his own will.

WALLENSTEIN (after a pause).

Well then! SENI (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low And in all else, of what kind and complexion

voice, till he comes to eleven, which he repeats). Was your reception at the court? Eleven! an evil number! Set twelve chairs

(The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground, and Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac : five and seven,

remains silent. The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve. Hide nothing from mo. How were you received ! SECOND SERVANT.

DUCHESS
And what may you have to object against eleven? O! my dear Lord, all is not what it was.
I should like to know that now.

A canker-worm, my Lord, a canker-worm

Has stolen into the bud. Eleven is transgression; eleven oversteps

WALLENSTEIN.
The ten commandments.

Ay! is it so ?
SECOND SERVANT.

What, they were lax ? they fail'd of the old respect? That's good! and why do you call five a holy

DUCHESS. number?

Not of respect. No honors were omitted,

No outward courtesy ? but in the place Five is the soul of man : for even as man

Of condescending, confidential kindness, Is mingled up of good and evil, so

Familiar and endearing, there were given me

SENI.

SENI.

DUCHESS.

DUCHESS.

DUCHESS.

DUCHESS.

Only these honors and that solemn courtesy.
Ah! and the tenderness which was put on, I cannot utter it!
It was the guise of pity, not of favor.

WALLENSTEIN.
No! Albrecht's wife, Duke Albrecht's princely wife,

Proceed! Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not som

DUCHESS.
Not wholly so should she have been received.

They talk-
WALLENSTEIN.

WALLENSTEIN.
Yes, yes; they have ta'en offence. My latest con- Well!

duct, They rail'd at it, no doubt.

Of a second catches her voice and hesitates).

WALLENSTEIN.
O that they had!

Second-
I have been long accustom'd to defend you,
To heal and pacify distemper'd spirits.

More disgraceful
No; no one rail'd at you. They wrapp'd them up, -Dismission
O Heaven! in such oppressive, solemn silence !

WALLENSTEIN. Here is no every-day misunderstanding,

Talk they?
No traixent pique, no cloud that passes over : [Strides across the Chamber in vehement agitation.
Something most luckless, most unhealable,

O! they force, they thrust me
Has taken place. The Queen of Hungary With violence against my own will, onward!
Used formerly to call me her dear aunt,
And ever at departure to embrace me-

DUCHESS (presses near to him, in entreaty).

0! if there yet be time, my husband ! if WALLENSTEIN. Nox she omitted it?

By giving way and by submission, this

Can be averted—my dear Lord, give way! DUCHESS (wiping away her tears, after a pause).. Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that heart, She did embrace me,

It is your sovereign Lord, your Emperor, But then first when I had already taken

Before whom you retreat. O let no longer My formal leave, and when the door already Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning Had closed upon me, then did she come out With venomous glosses. Stand you up In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,

Shielded and helm'd and weapond with the truth, And pressd me to her bosom, more with anguish

And drive before you into uttermost share Than tenderness.

These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have weWALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly). You know it -The swift growth of our good fortune

Nay, now collect yourself. It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.
And what of Eggenberg and Lichtenstein, What are we, if the sovereign's grace and favor
And of our other friends there?

Stand not before us?
DUCHESS (shaking her head).

I saw none.
WALLENSTEIN.

SCENE VIII.
The ambassador from Spain, who once was wont
To plead so warmly for me?—

Enter the Countess TERTsky, leading in her hand the

Princess THEKLA, richly adorned with Brilliants. Silent, silent!

COUNTESS, THEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS. WALLENSTEIN. These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward How, sister! What, already upon business! Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.

(Observing the countenance of the DUCHESS. DUCHESS.

And business of no pleasing kind I see,
And were it-were it, my dear Lord, in that Ere he has gladdend at his child. The first
Which moved about the court in buzz and whisper, Moment belongs to joy. Here, Friedland! father!
But in the country let itself be heard

This is thy daughter.
Aloud-in that which Father Lamormain
In sundry hints and

[THEKLA approaches urith a shy and timid air, and

bends herself as about to kiss his hand. He receives WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).

her in his arms, and remains standing for some Lamormain! what said he?

time lost in the feeling of her presence. DUCHESS. That you're accused of having daringly

WALLENSTEIN. O'erstepp'd the powers intrusted to you, charged

Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me: With traitorous contempt of the Emperor

I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.
And his supreme behests. The proud Bavarian,

DUCHESS.
He and the Spaniards stand up your accusers "T was but a little child when you departed
That there's a storm collecting over you

To raise up that great army for the Emperor :
Of far more fearful menace than that former one And after, at the close of the campaign,

Which whirl'd you headlong down at Regensburg. When you return'd home out of Pomerania, * And people talk, said he, of Ah!

Your daughter was already in the convent,
[Stifling extreme emotion. Wherein she has remain'd till now.
WALLENSTEIN

WALLENSTEIN.
Proceed!

The while

DUCHESS.

COUNTESS.

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